Snow

Snow. Tiny, six-sided crystals of water that glisten like diamonds when the sun is shining, sparkling like glitter that have been scattered all over the ground. It can be light and fluffy, blowing easily in the slightest breeze, or wet and heavy, weighing down the trees and their branches. In the beginning of the season, snow has a magical quality that everyone can appreciate, but as the winter drags on, and the more it accumulates, the less it holds its charm. By mid-January we begin to get tired of this white stuff. On warm days, it changes quality and can turn to a dirty, salty, slushy-brown mush that stains your pant legs when you walk, dirties up your shoes, creating a salt mark on leather, and sticks to the bottom half of your car.

There’s a time for snow. From November to January it’s almost necessary to have snow to help create the magical ambiance of Thanksgiving, the miraculous enchantment of Christmas, Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, and exciting allure of New Year’s Eve. However, after months of bi-weekly snowstorms that close schools and bury cars in the driveways and parking lots, with thirty-mile per hour winds and sub-zero, double-digit temperatures, we’re ready for spring when mid-March comes around.

As a child, I always wanted snow for my birthday, which is in mid-November. If I awoke to the scene of snow on the rooftops and lawns it would make my day. Even to this day it I feel a special little-girl feeling if there’s snow on the ground on my birthday, like Mother Nature giving me a little gift just for me. However, after the holidays have passed the need for the charm is gone. Come mid-March, it’s time for the snow to start disappearing. I’ve seen years when there’s still snow on the ground up until May! I read the blogs that others have written about how they have flowers blooming and the snow has melted and such, and I’m so jealous! But, in spite of the snow season lasting so long, I do love Northern Maine and wouldn’t move anywhere else, willingly of course, for the world.